


All This Here Falls Away

by anr



Category: Stargate Atlantis RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-18
Updated: 2008-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anr/pseuds/anr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Torri and Joe got caught with their hands down the other's pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All This Here Falls Away

  


* * *

  


The photographer waves her over when the shoot ends, camera still in hand and a frown on his features. "Torri, right?" he asks, and she hardly has a chance to nod before he continues. "Can I ask you something?"

A little confused, a little curious, she nods again. "Sure."

"Are there any plans for your character and Joe's to hook up?"

_Of all the_... "I didn't know you were a fan," she says, starting to smile. "Usually only teenage girls ask me _that_ ques--"

He cuts her off. "I'm not." Lifting his camera, he fiddles with the controls on the back and then turns it around so that she can see the LCD screen. "Never even seen the show before." On screen is a mostly-candid shot, taken about an hour ago when David suggested they do a can-can line and the photographer -- Tim, she remembers absently, his name is Tim -- agreed.

"You should," she says quietly, not really thinking, "it's a good show."

"So I've heard," he says. "So, your characters?"

The LCD screen is pretty small, the background set too busy and the number of people in the frame too many, but her eyes are drawn nevertheless to where she and Joe stand at the end of the dance line, his arm crossing her back and his hand in her back pocket. He's facing the set wall, like everyone else, but she has turned at the last moment and her cheek is resting on his shoulder as she looks straight into the camera.

"Torri?" he prompts.

She hardly even remembers the moment the shot was taken, to tell the truth -- there's just a blur of laughter and bad dancing in her head -- but the expression Tim has caught on her face, and the way their bodies are slightly turned towards each other's, and his hand...

_Intimate_ , she thinks guiltily. "No," she says out loud, forcing a smile and clearing her throat. "No plans."

Tim nods and thumbs a button, the words _Erase? Yes No_ briefly flashing up on the screen before the shot disappears and the next frame takes its place. "Didn't think so," he says, and smiles. "Thanks."

"No problem." She watches him walk away, her mind racing. "No problem at all."

  


* * *

  


It starts innocently enough during read-through -- a playful prod to his side, a grape thrown in retaliation -- and soon escalates. By lunchtime she has ink fingerprints on the inside of her arm -- makeup's gonna go nuts when they start filming tomorrow -- and Joe's t-shirt is saturated from an ice fight that she has (mostly) won.

Laughing, she trails her hand down his spine as he pushes her back against the craft services trailer, a cup of water held threateningly above her head. The skin under his wet t-shirt is cool, slippery, and her fingers slide past the waistband of his jeans without even trying, his hips jerking against hers involuntarily.

"Oh, for fuck's sake..." David's tone is more amused than anything else. "Aren't you two a little old for this kind of shit?"

Torri snorts, and Joe shakes his head, serious despite the grin on his face. "Revenge is ageless."

David rolls his eyes. "More like pointless. You know she's only going to retaliate." Grabbing a donut, he turns and walks away again, and Torri watches him go before returning her gaze to Joe's.

"He's right, you know," she says, laughter threatening again, "I will."

Joe's gaze darkens, water slopping over the rim of the cup and splashing her shoulder. "I'm counting on it."

  


* * *

  


_Hi, leave a message after the tone._

"Torri? Hi, it's Kathy. Look, I was just wondering if Joe's still with you? He said you guys were running lines tonight but his cell's off and -- anyway, if he's still there, can you tell him to buy milk on his way home? Thanks. Bye!"

There's a soft click as the line disconnects, silence once again settling into her lounge room.

"Don't." Joe's voice is low, the word felt more than heard as his mouth moves on her neck, his weight still pressing her into her sofa cushions. "Torri --"

She can't not. Limbs suddenly leaden, she pulls her hands out of his clothes.

  


* * *

  


They barely make it back to his hotel room.

As soon as they step through the door he has her backed up against the dresser, his mouth hot on her neck and his hands skimming her sides. Her top is discarded within moments, his following as soon as she can stop touching him long enough to pull it over his head. When he lifts her up onto the dresser, scattering room service menus and convention timetables, her hands brush his waist, his abdomen, fingers slipping inside his jeans.

There's a lazy knock on the door next to them.

"Ignore it," mutters Joe, his mouth never leaving her skin, and she nods, arching her neck to give him better access.

"Probably not the wisest idea, bro."

With a start, she and Joe pull back and look to the side, look to find Jason leaning against the door, an amused smirk on his face.

_Busted_ , she thinks, glancing quickly at Joe. His stunned expression is kinda hilarious and she feels laughter rise in her throat.

"Jase --" begins Joe, but his co-star shakes his head.

"Word of advice?" he says, pushing off the doorjamb and tapping his fingers twice on the lock. "When you get a room? Remember to _shut the door_."

He steps outside and the last thing Torri sees before he pulls the door closed is the wide, shit-eating grin on his face. Her shoulders shaking, she closes her eyes and leans forward, resting her forehead on Joe's shoulder.

Joe's immobile, his hands frozen on her body and his face still turned towards the door. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she feels him relax again, his head lowering until his mouth is close to her ear.

"Think we should have given him a tip?"

She can't hold it in anymore; throwing her head back, she bursts into laughter.

  


* * *

  


She's still trying to dress when Joe steps out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and she frowns as she watches his reflection in the mirrored closet door.

"Late," she reminds him, struggling with the fastener on her jeans.

Walking up behind her, he slides his arms around her waist, his hands settling low on her hips. "Plenty of time," he says, dropping a kiss on the curve of her shoulder.

Rolling her eyes, she tries to pull his hands away. "Stop that," she says, "Kath'll be here any minute."

Another kiss on her shoulder; he's slowly making his way towards her neck, his hands sliding past the still loose waistband of her jeans and his fingers tracing the elastic edge of her underwear. "She can wait."

_Oh, sure_ , she thinks. "Yeah, I can see that going down real --"

"Dad?"

As one, they both look towards the bedroom door.

"What are you doing?"

Joe's fingers tighten briefly on her hips, but his voice is steady, almost amused, as he answers Truman. "Helping Tor get dressed."

"Oh." There's a brief pause as he digests this answer. Then, as if on cue: "Why?"

Finally getting a grip on Joe's hands, she pulls them away from her body. "Because apparently I'm too fat to do it myself," she says, mostly under her breath.

Truman looks confused. "But don't you _have_ to be fat to have a baby?" he asks, and Joe snickers.

Sending his reflection in the mirror a dirty look, she finally manages to get her jeans done up. Stepping away, she moves over to the door. "C'mon, Tru," she says, "let's go see if your brothers are ready. Your mom will be here any minute to collect you guys."

"Okay."

She watches him run off down the hallway and turns back to find Joe watching her. "I'm sorry?" he asks, unsuccessfully trying to wipe the grin off his face.

"Oh, you will be," she answers smartly, smoothing her shirt down over her stomach. "Now hurry up and get dressed."

"Yes ma'am," he says, with a sloppy salute, and she rolls her eyes again as she walks away. "Hey, Tor!"

Pausing halfway down the hall, she looks back over her shoulder to see him now leaning against the doorjamb, his gaze blatantly panning her body. "Yes?"

"You're beautiful."

Laughing, she shakes her head. "Nice try, Flanigan," she says, but she walks back over and presses a quick kiss on his mouth, running her fingers down his bare chest until she can play with the knot holding his towel up. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles; rests his hand on the side of her belly, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth. "Five minutes?"

Her grin is wicked. " _Less_."

And this time, when she walks away, she takes his towel with her.

  


* * *

The End

**Author's Note:**

> ORIGINAL URL: <http://anr.livejournal.com/313125.html>


End file.
